stranded
between the contrast
defining the moon
a face
e’er blazoned
to man
dark
and unseen
vibrant
and garish
either
is not
what it seems
Precipice
Ode to Zechariah
long before light
cleft the heavens in twain
a movement
of manhood emerged
unlike the unsavory
dissidents prior
his was a station deserved
he fostered conviction
amongst the rapt populace
stoically instilling mindful revolt
fully apprised of philosophies spoken
unlike static sophists consisting of molt
fervent emotions born of empathy
ever consuming his radiant heart
salient locution so poignantly posed
lingered long after he bid to depart
tales of his august aplomb echoed through the vales
prose poised to avail the downtrodden denizens
parlance empowering dispelled compatriots
apposite to proletariat wards
forged in the fires of familial defect
stuttering sopor
societal ire
nonetheless, pwning the epic drum solo
from “too hot for teacher” when he was but twelve
not having given an “F” he sought “T”
and tempered his mind with the breadth thus required
of the scant few i regard as elite
he is one by whom i’m duly inspired
Deep within this tattered husk lies the hope
to someday avow this Marxist of a man
of every last tender kiss wrought by his words
intended for naught but to better this land
Sharing Is Caring:
Accept, Allow
red, green, and blue
black, white, and gray
quiddity
is not a crime
if not for your lips
as they rest on your face
would your kiss then
no longer be yours
is ego content
with ill-gotten conclusion
your virtue
my heart doth avow
to all the world
this
i shall ever aver
requite not these words
with the burden of speech
in tacit skies
we remain boundless
unwinding allusions
to infinite realms
where idyll
submits not
to idealization
[image credit: Vittorio Zecchin]
Sharing Is Caring:
In Truth
in truth
i am nothing
if not
for this
suffering
fleshed
of sighs
in nuanced
rebuttal
abjection
from sanity
lost
spectrums span
ceaselessly
i dare be sworn
to behold
the bane
of my dedition
Sharing Is Caring:
Man-Made Mood
suicide
can swoon you
come the solstice moon’s
return
in spite of its obsequious attendance
on the fives and tens
some would even say
it was romantic
though i’m not inclined
to justify your prying
either way
airing such affairs
errs most uncouth
besides this documenting
circumstances
spare no time to tarry
only in the spongecake
of a soft and silky
skull-bound stockade
does a tolerance
evince
alas, these are but
ramblings
of a mordant
man-made mood
so pardon me
for pissing
on your balsamine
impatiens
[image credit: Frantisek Kobliha]
Sharing Is Caring:
Lost Expression
all that i desire to say
can be found lost in my expression
enshrouded by archaic airs
arbitrary to my intentions
are these conscious thoughts of truth
in conflict with my hidden layers
or is it pretense so aloof
driving rifts through solemn lair
this much i may never know
and such it is i must accept
that all i might forever show
should be not what my heart reflects
Sharing Is Caring:
Universal Truth
The universe has once again flourished in my consciousness. Knowledge of my own existence and that of the world around me becomes my reality. There are many things, infinite things for which i feel fear and unknowing. Life persists and time is imminent. I am helpless to anything other than surrender to its insistence.
In spite of the anguished plight of each individual’s existence, i feel the warm energy of assurance and comfort radiate throughout my entire being. An understanding that all that has been, all that will be, and all that is, shall be okay.
The singularity of time and truth looms above. Not as a harbinger of sorrow but as the sun, infusing all with its golden beams of love. Doting on each and every one of us with buzzing motes of life’s exquisite mystery. Anything within and beyond our comprehension may take place at any given moment.
Just as we are here so shall we be gone. As those that are gone are here, surrounding us with their love and granting us stay. Their existence continues in all realms. The love that permeates throughout the varied instances of our day speaks of this divine truth.
This understanding brings hope. The love we all share brings hope. Hope is the understanding that although we have no possible way of knowing what things may come, we refuse to let the fear of the unknown tarnish our weary hearts. For we know that things will be okay.
Knowing that regardless of the surreality of reality and all things contained therein will happen as they will. And this is okay.
Every moment we have ever experienced. Every treasured memory Every misplaced memento that wanders throughout our subconscious as the fuel that feeds the fire of our dreams. Every brief moment of perfect happiness that so fleetingly dashed across our life’s landscape. Every first beholding of love that was previously unknown to our conscious minds. All of these exist in this very moment.
When we gaze upon the open sky of umbrage we are overcome with a sense of wonder and awe. As we glance upon the very particles that compose our own existence in physical and ethereal form. The true essence of everything in every temporal tense of existence.
That truth is love.
[image credit: Chesley Bonestell]
Sharing Is Caring:
Chaotic Pedantry
these, my thoughts
a plague of vague and divergent plagiarizations
indiscriminately pilfered in epic proliferation
culled and culminated
an insipidly loquacious clamor
pulling at the seams
of a precarious defenestrator
sonorous disquietude
of pointless quips methodical
poised with impropriety
imprudently parodical
pondering the response
spurred by unintended implication
posed from every angle
with fastidious consideration
formulating fears quickly forestalled
and then falsely inflected
internalized dialogues
disseminated and dissected
infiltrated by effusively
flourishing fantasies
in fluctuating malformations
of infernal lunacy
frantically then bantering
a bevy of inbound semantics
transmuting juxtapositions
chaotic thought pedantic
poring over every nuance
with a painstaking precision
lamentations
over lingering lexical aberrations
an incessant onslaught
of neurotic errings syntactical
cringing at the notion
of the permanence of erstwhile drivel
ever ready to unravel
by mere random incidence
so unwittingly interweaved
with arbitrary intermittence
why must it be so
that my mind never ceases inundating
every thought that fills my head
with copious neuroticisms
moored and then mechanically mulled over to such mundane measure
maladaptations of mind-numbing malefic discomfiture
omnipresently presaging
prominently ominous
a vomitous slew so profusely foul and insalubrious
besotting of verbosely vulgar surreptitious linguistics
repetitious literary folderal inefficacious
unrelentingly attending all obsessive inclinations
descending into grammatical quandaries sans hesitation
requisitely structured with laborious alliteration
assonance and consonance or else subjective condemnation
were that my implores could ever be expressed externally
surely they would lock me up then quickly throw away the key
cognitive calamity at this degree of grave affliction
begets one naught but a ticket to the mental institution
left bereft of any hope for one’s existential salvation
in an exile of the vilest form of human deprivation
i must then be heedful in revealing my indisposition
if you would excuse me from thus furthering this exposition
Sharing Is Caring:
Luminary In Her Dearth
adrift
amid the vapid bedlam
palliation sought
eluding
stinging mistral
stretching onward
unseen
through the looking glass
left
to bare futility
lorn
where languid life doth linger
mistress lost
the first
the last
as she alone
compelled the stars
to loom anew
the constellations
lucid whispers
shaped her lips
like lucent kisses
illustrating
dormant creed
of freedom’s virtue
solitary
heart-sworn wisdom
salvaged from a wonted way
of this frail earth
where only fools
and martyrs
of demented mind
stand to find
a disposition
sound of spirit
. . . listen –
for her’s is a legacy
of love
luminary
in her dearth
and presence
redefined
[image credit: Vittorio Zecchin]
Sharing Is Caring:
Upon Consideration . . .
fuck you
for the thought you’re thinking
fuck your epic pompadour
fuck that smug look
on your fuck face
fuck your doppelganger dog
fuck your every breath you breathe
fuck whatever makes you happy
fuck the way your clothing fits you
fuck the timbre of your voice
fuck anyone desperate
or dumb enough to fall for your shit
fuck you
for not being bothered
by the fact that you’re a prick
fuck your “soul patch”
fuck your soul
fuck your lack thereof
fuck no
fuck the way your mouth moves
every time you make an utterance
fuck your feigned gesticulations
fuck you
just because
fuck the fact that you perceive
yourself as being above others
fuck your lack of self-awareness
fuck the way you mistreat women
fuck your racist undertones
you always try to justify
fuck your privilege
being of a magnitude superlative
fuck your pompous
omnipresent omnipotent arrogance
fuck your vapid elocution
fuck you for always guffawing
fuck your predisposed conclusions
fuck you for wearing “cologne”
fuck you for making me smell you
fuck your insincerity
fuck your insecurity
fuck your lack of verity
fuck your duplicitous nature
fuck you because “~Dashers, Dashers~”
fuck your fucking sweater-vests
fuck you for even existing
fuck you for not remedying it
fuck your parents
fuck theirs too
fuck them all
for never caring
wait a fucking minute, dude –
you too
were neglected
under slightly different circumstances
nonetheless
life had not afforded you
the proper chances
for the record
fuck my hypocritical
lapse in discretion
leading me to perpetrate
a most impetuous transgression
if you would excuse
my hideous affront to civil discourse
mayhaps you and i
could be the source
of one another’s recourse
[image credit: František Kobliha]
Max, or Not 
You must be logged in to post a comment.